


You Came Back to Me

by spooderboyandtincan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arsenic Poisoning, BAMF Helen Cho, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Italian Tony Stark, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Death, Morse Code, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Scared Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Worried Tony Stark, alcohol mention, dad tony stark, no starker, tony stark is a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooderboyandtincan/pseuds/spooderboyandtincan
Summary: "Peter took another sip, expecting his dry throat to be blissfully cleared by the sweet cherry flavored drink.The burning in his throat only grew. He felt like his stomach was  turning inside out and his chest had been stabbed with needle-sharp knives. The back of his neck prickled and he felt like he was in the middle of a blizzard but also in a desert with the sun directly overhead at the same time."Or: Peter gets poisoned
Relationships: Helen Cho & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 248





	You Came Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Arsenic Poisoning, hospitals, mentions of death.

Peter knew it was a waste to try to tame his curls. No matter how much gel he used (which must have been at least a full bottle by now) his hair would _not_ stay flat. 

Peter gave a frustrated sigh and threw down the comb in surrender. Not even a second later, as if he had somehow sensed his absolute _agony,_ Tony strolled in.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony grinned at him. “Were you going for the half-drowned puppy look on purpose? Is this a new style I don’t know about?” he teased, tweaking one of his greasy curls gently.

Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel to get some of the gel out. “I hate this stuff,” he grumbled, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror. He _did_ look like a half-drowned puppy, not that he would ever admit it. Tony chuckled and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and Peter looked up at him.

Tony’s hair was styled so perfectly that each individual hair was in place. His beard was combed and his sunglasses were folded in the front pocket of his smooth, cream colored Armani suit, and around his neck was a light, lavender tie. To Peter’s astonishment, he had managed to get ready in less than an hour. 

Peter leaned into his father figure’s chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne, old spice, motor oil and something distinctly _Tony_ that always soothed his nerves. 

“How long is the party gonna be?” he mumbled into his chest. 

“As long as we can suffer,” Tony joked, then in a softer tone, “We can leave whenever you want, okay? Just let me know and we’ll go.”

“M’kay.” He nodded, feeling a little relieved. He would much rather have a movie night and fall asleep in Tony’s arms than be at a loud, crowded party full of snobby rich people, and he knew Mr. Stark felt the same. But from what he had accidentally overhead of Tony’s conversation over the phone with Pepper, it was pretty important that Tony came to represent Stark Industries, especially because Pepper had to be out of the country that week. 

“Let’s get your suit,” Tony said. They walked into his bedroom, and Peter sighed in relief at the simple black suit that was on the bed. He thought that Tony might have bought him an expensive Armani suit or a Tom Ford, but he hadn’t. Thank _goodness._ If he had, Peter probably would have passed out right then and there. 

When Peter came out of the bathroom, fumbling with his tie, Tony nearly cooed. When changing, his curls had gone completely rogue and were frizzing about. His socks were bright purple with pink stars and were rather blinding compared to the dark suit. Peter gave up on the tie and handed it to Tony, his big bambi eyes wide and pleading for help. 

Tony grinned fondly and quickly looped the fabric around his kid’s neck, easily knotting it into a perfect tie. “There. Signature Tony Stark.” He patted his shoulder. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “You can’t have a style for a tie, Mr. Stark.”

“Sure I can. Draw a goatee on it and it’ll be a new fashion. I guarantee it.” 

Peter snickered and they headed down to the garage where Happy was waiting. Tony grabbed a juice box and a granola bar for Peter and took the boy’s coat from the closet (Peter insisted he didn’t need it but knew he probably would). 

“Hey, Happy,” Tony greeted. The driver looked up. 

“About time,” Happy grumbled, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Get in here, we need to go!”

Tony chuckled at the disgruntled driver. “We can be fashionably late.” He hopped in the backseat with his kid and put an arm around his shoulders.

“No, we goddamn _can’t!”_ Happy grumbled to himself, though his words were quite audible. He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the garage. 

“Watch your language, there’s a kid,” Tony warned, cupping his hands over Peter’s ears. Peter rolled his eyes.

Once they reached the building where the party was being held, the father-and-son-duo stayed back while Happy cleared away crowds of paparazzi that had materialized all around the car. 

“Remember, kiddo,” Tony said. “We can leave anytime you want.” He squeezed the boy’s knee reassuringly. 

“‘Kay.” Peter smiled nervously. 

“You ready?” 

Peter bit his lip. “I think so.” He took a deep breath.

“We don’t have to go, baby,” Tony murmured, tracing a finger along his cheek bone. “Do you wanna go back home and just watch a movie?”

Peter really just wanted to nod his head and drive back to the compound and have a nice movie night with Tony. His cheeks turned red. How embarrassing would that be? Pulling up to your own party and then leaving. He didn’t want to embarrass Mr. Stark. It couldn’t be _that_ bad. It would probably be fun (he doubted that, but _maybe_ it would be). Peter took a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

“Alright.” Tony gave him a loving smile. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks.” Tony gave his hand a squeeze and opened the door, hurrying around the back of the car to open Peter’s door and promptly ignoring the renewed bright flashing and clicking of cameras.

“Okay,” he whispered, looping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s do this.” He slid on his sunglasses and they started down the red carpet. Happy hovered behind them, glaring at anyone who dared to get too close. 

Peter’s heart was beating so fast he could barely hear the separate beats. He began to feel slightly nauseous. He was already starting to regret his decision to stay. 

Peter subconsciously leaned further into Tony as they entered the building. People’s attention turned to them, and not-so-subtle gasps and murmurs buzzed through the crowd.

Tony wanted nothing more than to glare at these idiotic people and lead Peter right back to the car and back home. However, he was sure Pepper was right that this would be a good experience for his kid, and he knew they would have fun once most of the crowds dissipated. 

(Plus, Pepper would _kill_ him if he left. She would have his ass hanging on the mantle in place of the Christmas stockings Peter had insisted they put up already.)

Happy clapped him on the shoulder and informed him was going to go patrol the perimeter. Tony dryly told him to “have fun,” and Peter waved as he stalked off.

“Tony! Who’s the kid?” a bright voice called. Peter flinched and inched behind the man as they turned around, a little nervous. 

A tall, middle-aged woman with straight blonde hair and a silvery dress rushed up to them. She had even, pearly teeth that shone brightly when she gave them a smile. “Tony! Hi!” she said breathlessly. “How are you doing? I’m Stephanie Wright.” 

Tony shook her gloved hand. “Pleasure.”

“And who are you, hon?” Stephanie bent down so her face hovered uncomfortably close to Peter’s. 

He scooted backward slightly and tried to give her a charming smile like Tony had. “I’m Mr. Stark’s personal intern.”

“Oh, isn’t that _wonderful?”_ she cried, far too enthusiastic in Peter's opinion. “You must be pretty smart!” 

Peter smiled uncomfortably. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to _get away._ Something about this lady was definitely off, and he didn’t want to stick around to find out what it was.

“Why don’t we go get a drink, kiddo?” Tony interrupted, starting to lead him away from Stephanie. Peter knew he had sensed his discomfort and wanted to get him away. 

Stephanie gave a piercing laugh and, to the pair’s displeasure, followed them. “Oh, we must think alike. I’ve been craving champagne all night. I hope you aren’t giving this poor kid alcohol, Tony.”

Peter frowned. He knew Tony would never even _think_ of it. Even talking about alcohol could make the man uncomfortable, so he tried to think of something to change the topic. 

“Did you know there’s a turtle that pees through its mouth?” he blurted. 

Peter’s face turned crimson red. Of all the things to come out of his mouth, why did it have to be _that?_

Stephanie gave him a strange look and stayed silent in suppressed disgust, but Tony snorted and stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. He squeezed the back of Peter’s neck gently to let him know he wasn’t laughing at him, but at Stephanie’s hilarious expression. Peter groaned internally and wished he could die on the spot.

Tony and Peter headed to the bar, chatting happily, but Stephanie narrowed her eyes and forced her way through some disgruntled young ladies so she stood a few yards from them. She watched Tony hand the kid a menu. He pointed to something she couldn’t see, which the man nodded at and flagged down a waiter.

She couldn't hear what he said but assumed Tony had ordered two of the same drink from the two fingers he held up. The bartender seemed to have prioritized their drinks (of course he had, that was _Tony Stark)_ because not even five minutes later he rushed to them with two overflowing glasses of cherry red liquid on a silver platter. 

Stephanie saw her chance, and she took it.

She ran towards Tony with a grin on her face, waving to get his attention. Just before she reached them, she pretended to trip in her silver high heels and bumped into Tony. “Oh my god,” she laughed, faking embarrassment. “I’m so clumsy, sorry.” 

“No problem,” Tony said politely. The drink hadn’t splashed onto his expensive suit. In fact, it hadn’t sloshed out of the cup at all. He handed the glass to his kid, who was looking strangely at the tall woman. 

_You idiot!_ Stephanie cursed Tony silently. _You fucking idiot! That was for you, not the kid!_ She took a deep breath. _I can make it up later, she told herself. Relax and go with it. I can get the kid first and then later, him._

Feeling assured, she grinned. “Sorry about that, Tony. Glad it didn’t leave any stains!” Stephanie suddenly looked to her purse and dug through it till she pulled out her phone. “Oh. My fiancé is here somewhere and he’s trying to find me.” She sighed. In reality, she had received no text and didn’t even have a fiancé, but she needed to get a safe distance away before the kid took a drink from his Shirley Temple. “Well, I should go. It was wonderful meeting you Tony- you too Peter.”

“Yeah,” Tony said as the woman hurried off. “Huh. That was weird.” Peter shrugged and laughed. Tony ruffled his curls and they set down next to each other at a small table.

“How’s that Shirley Temple?” he asked when Peter took his first large gulp.

“Good!” he answered truthfully. Tony smiled fondly at him and reached out to ruffle his hair. 

Peter took another sip, expecting his dry throat to be blissfully cleared by the sweet cherry flavored drink.

Instead, the liquid that trickled down his throat stung and burned. He choked silently and took another drink, hoping it would help.

The burning in his throat only grew. He felt like his stomach was turning inside out and his chest had been stabbed with needle-sharp knives. The back of his neck prickled and he felt like he was in the middle of a blizzard but also in a desert with the sun directly overhead at the same time.

He tried to reach for Tony, desperately needing the man’s comforting arms around him, but his arm and fingers would move. All that came out of his mouth was a strained gasp when he tried to get his attention.

Tony was texting Happy about the potentially dangerous Stephanie who had been following them all evening, when he heard a thud and the sound of glass shattering.

He whirled around. _“Peter!”_

One moment he was sitting in a squishy, comfortable chair, the next kneeling on the ground next to his kid’s small form, the chair falling to the ground loudly behind him. 

“Peter?! Peter, baby!” There were glasses being set down and plates clattering on tables as people near them noticed the terrified billionaire. Tony quickly pulled off the boy’s tie and gathered him in his arms and cradled him close, his focus on his kid and nothing else. Peter’s head flopped against his chest limply, his face clammy and turning gray, his chest heaving with every strained breath. Tony cupped his cheek and smoothed his thumb over the hollows under his eyes. “Peter?” His voice came out in a whisper instead of a terrified cry. Tony didn’t know what to do. 

Peter clawed at the man’s chest, his chest feeling as heavy as lead. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t _breathe._ Peter choked and gasped, coughing and trying frantically to get air into his lungs.

Tony’s blurry face hovered above him. He could tell the man’s lips were moving quickly, could feel his heart beating a mile per minute in terror and panic, but he couldn’t hear anything except a blur of shouting and running. 

_Tony, sirens, heartbeat, Tony, kiss on his forehead, hand in his curls, shouting, shouting_ _, sirens getting louder, Tony getting louder, heartbeat, glass, high heels running, Tony, sobbing, tears falling to his hair- not his tears, Tony’s tears. He didn’t want Tony to cry._ “Don’t cry,” he tried to say, but nothing came out of his mouth but a strangled wheeze. 

Bubbles foamed around his mouth. The tears fell more rapidly and the strong arms around him were almost painfully tight. _A kiss to the forehead- more words. Another kiss, this time on the cheek. Gentle, calloused fingers, tears, voices- different voices, not just Tony’s._ He wanted Tony. 

And- _Painpainpain._ Suddenly Peter was drowning in white hot agony. _Make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop. His teeth were grinding together, Tony was crying, words of comfort were coming out of the man’s mouth but Peter couldn’t understand them-_

_Pain._ Great waves of pain washed over him. _Make it stop, Tony, please._ This time the tears were his own. _Soothing hands in his hair- he could barely feel them. Too much. Too much everything. Make it stop! He needed it to stop. Toomuchtoomuch. Too much pain. Please. Please._

That was a word coming from Tony’s mouth. _Please._

_Please._

**_Please._ **

The pain stopped. 

Everything stopped. 

~~~~~

Tony felt like throwing up. His heart was beating so fast it felt more like an erratic hum. His hands shook violently and had he not been sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, he knew he would have collapsed long ago. His suit was dirty and wet with tears- not that he cared.

He dropped his forehead into his hands.

When Tony closed his eyes, all he could see was the cold, pale face cradled against his palm that was so unlike his beautiful, warm, rosy-cheeked kid. 

He leapt to his feet and began pacing the length of the medbay waiting room, fear flooding through his veins, every instinct in him telling him to move, to get to Peter, to protect his kid. 

But he fucking couldn’t, he couldn’t, because Peter was down the hall in a room filled with strangers, and oh _god,_ Peter had been _poisoned._ His kid could be _dying_ and he was stuck out here, so far away, and he couldn’t even fucking hold him and brush his fingers through his soft curls and tell Peter he had to stay. He _had_ to. 

Tony knew he couldn’t live without his kid. Peter was his _everything-_ he couldn't do this without him. He _needed_ Peter- and Tony knew he couldn’t survive without him. 

He slid down the wall weakly, his breaths quickening. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Peter, oh my _god._ I’m right here, Peter. Don’t leave me, baby, _please.”_ He didn’t bother to wipe the tears trickling down his cheeks. “Don’t make me lose him, oh god _please,_ I _can’t._ I _can’t.”_

Tony began to sob. He pressed his hands against his face to muffle his loud cries. 

_Peter, eyes closed, not breathing. Looking dead. Face gray and pale. His own anguished sobs flooding his ears as he hugged the boy to his chest._

_Peter, on a gurney, taken away from Tony before he could process that his kid wasn’t in his arms anymore._

_Too terrified and stunned to move- then sprinting after him and trying to fight through the doctors and nurses to get to Peter. Happy and two others struggling to hold him back._

“Tony,” said Dr. Cho, the door swinging shut behind her. “Are you okay?”

He spun around so fast he could hear his neck crack. Tony lurched to his feet, heart pounding. “Peter,” he croaked, blood draining from his face.

She gave him a weary smile. “He’s okay, Tony. You can see him now. He’s awake, actually, but he’s really out of it.”

Tony hadn’t processed even half of her words before he was running. He dodged past her and sprinted down the hall, skidding into a familiar room.

“Peter…” he breathed, his eyes blurred with tears. 

Before he knew it, Tony was at his kid’s side, sobs racking his chest. He gently lifted the disoriented boy into his arms, carefully avoiding the oxygen mask strapped to his precious face, and rocked him back and forth. 

He wept into Peter’s hair, pressing kisses against his curls in between sobs. “You came back to me,” Tony cried. “You came back, you came _back._ My Peter, my baby, _you came back to me.”_ He squeezed Peter gently. “I thought I lost you, I thought you were gone- I- I can’t, I can’t do this without you, I-”

Tony took a long, deep breath, broken with small cries. He cupped Peter’s confused, tired, still far too pale face. “I don’t- I- oh _baby,_ thank god you’re _okay.”_ Tony tried not to burst into another round of tears.

He squeezed his kid close and pressed a long, tender kiss to his forehead. “My sweet boy,” Tony murmured. He ran his fingers through Peter’s soft curls.

Peter blinked up at him, a slight crease between his eyebrows. His lips parted, trying to form words, but Tony gently stopped him.

“Shh, shh, baby, no talking yet, okay?” He tapped the plastic of the oxygen mask. “We need to keep this mask on to make sure you get enough air, see? Just rest for me, _bambino,_ I’ve got you.” Tony sniffled and tried to give him a reassuring smile, discreetly wiping away the tears that had pooled in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if Peter had even processed what he’d said, but he seemed to relax and practically melted in his arms. 

Tony felt such overwhelming _relief_ washing over him as he watched Peter’s chest rise steadily. Wiping his eyes again, he pressed his lips to Peter’s forehead and let his eyes close for a long moment, desperately trying not to think about how close he had been to losing his baby. 

There was a quiet sniffle, and his eyes flew open, his heart racing once again. “Peter? Peter, baby?” Tony was panic-stricken to find a pearly tear running down his face. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” He wiped Peter’s tears away with the pad of his thumb. “What is it, bubba? Should I get a doctor?”

Peter shook his head, a squeak coming from his throat even though he was trying hard not to cry. He tapped his pointer finger on the rough skin of Tony’s hand, hoping he would get the message.

_... -.-. .- .-. -.--_

_Scary_

Tony’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He squeezed his hand comfortingly and traced his thumb along the boy’s cheek. Peter sniffed again. “I know, Petey, I was scared too,” he murmured. He still was, but that was beside the fact. “But I promise you’re okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise.” 

_.--. --- .. ... --- -._

_Poison_

Tony flinched and held his kid tight. Peter was far more coherent than he had thought. “Yeah, sweetheart. Poison.” His voice was gravelly and Tony looked to the wall while he tried to pull himself together. “I was so scared I was gonna lose you,” he whispered.

_-.. .. -.. -. .----. -_

_Didn’t_

Tony grinned tearily but couldn’t find any words. He sniffed and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, stroking his soft curls. Peter’s eyes were slowly drooping shut- which terrified him. 

The inventor knew that his baby was stable and safe and breathing- but he couldn’t get the image of Peter’s sheet-white, still body out of his mind. 

Tony took a deep breath to steel himself and smiled down at his kid. “You can sleep now, bubba. I’ll be here the whole time. It’s okay.” He brushed a finger over Peter’s eyelids. “I love you, baby,” he whispered, softly kissing his forehead. 

Peter closed his eyes and soon his breaths were slow and steady. Tony’s gaze was full of love as he cradled his sleeping kid. “I love you,” he repeated a little hysterically, somehow aching for the boy, even though he was already in his protective embrace. “I love you.” Tony pressed his lips against his temple for a long while. 

Ever so gently, he lowered Peter to the mattress, careful not to jostle the sickly boy. He moved around so that Peter’s head was cradled in his lap and pulled the covers to his chin, adjusting a spare pillow behind his back despite the padded headboard.

The inventor looked up at a quiet knock on the door. Helen stepped in, giving the pair a fond smile. 

“How’s he doing?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her face, then taking Peter’s wrist and checking his pulse. 

Tony massaged his forehead and sighed. “I…. He responded to me. Um... he used morse code.” He gave a strained chuckle. “He’s so goddamn smart.” 

“The smartest of us all.” Helen looked scrutinously at him. “And how are you?”

He snorted. “Honestly? Like I got run over by a couple of eighteen-wheelers.” Tony shook his head. “How are his vitals? Is he breathing okay? Is he okay?”

_“Tony._ Deep breath,” she instructed. “Yes. He’s fine, he’s doing great, actually.”

Tony breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Helen-” His voice broke. “Thank you. I-” Tony’s eyes watered and he looked away. “I can’t thank you enough. You saved my kid.” He brought Peter’s hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

Helen shook her head, smiling. “Tony, I don’t need thanks. I may be a world renowned geneticist-” her grin widened, “-but patching up your danger-prone kid every other day is a very important part of my job too.” 

They shared a chuckle, and after checking several of the monitors around them, Helen left, giving him a little wave. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check on him,” she said. “Try to get some rest.”

The door closed quietly behind her. In the growing silence, the heart monitor’s monotonous beeping seemed to grow louder. Tony gazed down at Peter’s lax face and he felt _so much love._ His heart seemed to burst with all the overwhelming love he held for his sweet kid, and he could only press a long kiss to the boy’s forehead.

Tony scooted forward and pulled the expensive blankets over his shoulder, wrapping Peter in his arms and bringing him close. He held him against his chest and combed a hand through his curls. “I love you, Petey,” he murmured. 

Tony pressed a tender kiss to Peter’s temple and, after hugging Peter closer, he allowed his eyes to slip shut. Peter’s soft breaths heated the crook of his neck. After a few peaceful minutes of listening to his kid’s breathing, Tony’s own breaths eventually steadied. 

~~~~~

Helen paused in the restroom, relieving herself and then fixing her bun. She washed her face with the warm water that came from the faucet and took a moment to breathe. The bathroom door slid shut behind her and she turned around, and nearly rammed into the one and only Happy Hogan.

“Happy!” she exclaimed.

“How is he?!” Happy gasped breathlessly, pulling at his tie. “Is he…?” The unspoken words on his tongue made him shiver and he shook his head.

“He’s fine,” she assured him. “He’s fine. Tony’s with him right now.”

Happy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank god,” he muttered. He turned to discreetly wipe the dust out of his eyes.

Helen smiled. “Peter’s okay. He’s stable and already recovering.” She shook her head and sighed, the worry lines around her eyes creasing. “Happy, it was arsenic poisoning.”

Happy’s lips pressed into a thin line. He swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“We caught her,” he said abruptly. “Stephanie Wright. All we know so far is that, um, it wasn't the kid she was looking for. Her target was Tony.” Happy cleared his throat. “I’ll let him know. Later. Not now.” 

“But Peter’s okay?” he asked once more. 

“He’s doing fine,” Helen assured him. 

“Good. Good.” Happy nodded. “That’s… yeah, good.” He began making his way down the hall to the waiting room.

She gave the weary man a kind smile. “I’m about to go check on him. I’ll let you know how he’s doing.”

When Helen poked her head to Peter’s hospital room a few minutes later, she couldn’t help but chuckle fondly. 

Peter was wrapped in Tony’s arms, barely visible in the protective embrace of his father. The man’s quiet snores and Peter’s adorable snuffles filled the empty, machine-like silence of the room. Even in sleep, Tony’s arms were still tight around his kid. 

Helen slipped in and quietly checked the monitors, nodding to herself. She saw Peter’s hand move almost violently on the pillow out of the corner of her eye, and she had to hold back a laugh when Tony let out a loud snort and pulled Peter closer. 

After adjusting a few wires, she smiled at the sleeping father and son duo and waved slightly, then watched the door shut behind her.

Back inside that serene room, Tony pressed his nose into Peter’s curls and breathed in deeply. His face was relaxed and peaceful as he held his precious kid. Peter, looking absolutely tiny in Tony’s arms, was snuggled against his chest, his lips parted slightly with a little drool dripping down his chin. 

Though they were both fast asleep, a feeling of peace and love filled Tony and Peter. Warm and safe in each other’s arms, they would sleep for a long while.


End file.
